


An Average Fairytale

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Cuddling & Snuggling, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nurse Louis, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 01:50:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4081999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis's first and only work rule is simple: don’t get attached.<br/>Of course, he meets Harry and his little friend and the rule doesn’t seem to apply anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Average Fairytale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amigogh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amigogh/gifts).



> First of all, this work hasn't been checked because I tried to contact my beta and she didn't answer, then I asked the moderators and they never replied (I feel so abandoned lol)  
> So all my horrible mistakes are mine. 
> 
> I loved this idea and I tried to make it extra fluffy because I'm a fluff fan. Hope you like it and I hope it's enough for you <3 Thank you! xx
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy! x

Harry Styles knows this isn’t a fairy tale. He doesn’t care, either way; he’s determined to make it look like one. At least, for the time Amelia has left in this world.

Who cares, anyway, if Harry wants to build a fairytale inside his head? Nobody should care about it because it’s _his_ life and _his_ problem.

“Harry, are you even listening?”

 _Right, sure_. As in every fairytale, there’s a _queen_ you have to listen to. Or pretend you do.

“I’m sorry Ms. Smith,” Harry apologizes to Tabitha Smith, mother of Amelia. “I was… Thinking. Can I see her now?”

Harry knows he isn’t standing in the middle of a medieval castle, he’s standing in a hospital hall; and he knows he isn’t holding a sword, he’s holding his guitar.

He pretends he doesn’t notice.

“Mr. Payne is still inside. Gonna get some coffee, want some?”

“No, thanks, Tabitha. I’ll wait here.”

“Ok, darling.”

She walks away with the elegant step of a queen. Harry watches the mother of his best friend as she walks away, pretending she isn’t the mother of a sick child whose life will be too short to her likeness.

It aches, Harry knows. He met Amelia two years ago, when he started to play his small concerts at the hospital to bring some happiness to the children.

It always hurts to see a child hurting; it’s like watching a flower die, like watching the fire consume a beautiful drawing.

That’s why Harry pretends Amelia isn’t dying, she’s just _cursed_.

“Harry Styles, my man!”

The voice of Niall Horan interrupts Harry’s thoughts. The freshman is sitting on the chair next to Amelia’s room door, after one of his concerts, a very special one, since he dedicated all his song to his little friend.

As soon as he spots Niall, he leaves his guitar in the chair and stands up to wrap his friend in a tight embrace.

“How you doing, man?” Harry asks, smiling.

“You rocked it out there, Haz,” Niall says, winking at him. “The children here love you like crazy. You’re like their personal Mick Jagger or something.”

“I’d rather be Ronnie Wood.”

“Shut up,” Niall says, rolling his eyes and patting his shoulder. “You, idiot. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting. I wanted to say goodbye to Amelia before coming back home and she’s with Dr. Payne right now.”

Niall nods, biting his lower lip. Harry doesn’t ask, he doesn’t want to know. Niall is like his _fairy godmother_ , the happy nurse, the one who brings miracles and happiness to his life.

“She’s a strong one, Amelia,” Niall says in a low voice. “She fights like a warrior.”

“She says she’s a warrior.”

“I know,” Niall nods, smirking. “I also know she says you’re a princess.”

Harry feels his cheeks rising up the temperature. “Shut up.”

“Secret remains with us.”

Harry giggles at the joke, pretending he’s annoyed with Niall. He really loves his lad, he’s a good one. Even when he’s still studying to become a doctor, he’s really good at it.

Amelia’s room door is open to reveal a very handsome Dr. Payne standing there, wearing his white uniform covered in colorful doodles. Harry smiles unconsciously, knowing how much Amelia does love to draw everything.

“Mr. Payne, the magician,” Harry jokes, shaking Liam’s hand. “Where’s the warrior?”

“I’m here!” The voice of Amelia comes from the room with a hint of excitement. Seconds later, she’s running towards Harry to hug his skinny legs, trying to reach as much of him as he can. She’s really tiny and Harry is really tall, which makes the entire scene much funnier.

“I missed you!” Amelia says, blowing a kiss to Harry.

“I was telling this little warrior,” Liam starts explaining, being extra careful on picking the right words. “That her curse is getting a little worse. She will need one or two more sessions of my magic spell.”

Niall as Harry know what Liam is talking about. Amelia maybe knows too, but she’s too young to decide to be an adult, she prefers to keep everything as an innocent fairy tale.

Harry kneels down next to his friend and hugs her tightly, kissing his forehead.

“Did you like my show?”

“I loved it!” Amelia nodded, kissing Harry back on his cheek. “You’re a great princess. Princesses sing perfectly and you sing perfectly.”

Harry chuckles, pleased with the compliment. He doesn’t help tearing a bit while he does. He loves Amelia so, _so much_ , like a little sister. For Harry, family has always been the most important thing in life. Even more than friends, of course friends who aren’t family.

“We can mach the magic sessions with your gig, Harry,” Liam suggests, writing in his notebook. “So Amelia will have something to clear her mind after the session.”

“I’m tired of your spells, Dr. Payne,” Amelia confesses, turning to her doctor. Harry holds her tiny hand and she squeezes it hard. “Can’t we stop?”

“Not if you want to beat this curse, little warrior.”

“This is worst than being a Khaleesi,” Amelia scoffs, rolling her eyes. “When I decided to become a warrior? I demand my dragons!”

They all burst into laughter and Amelia is pleased. She loves to make other people laugh and Harry simply loves her for that.

“Ok, time to sleep, bug,” Niall cuts out the conversation to bring them back to reality. “Say goodbye to my friends.”

“Wait!” Amelia stops him, waving her arms. “We have to… Make a thing. With Harry. Can we?”

Niall is about to reply when Liam gives him a glance; which makes him sigh loudly and nod with the head. “Ok, hurry up before your mom comes and demands to see you.”

Amelia grabs Harry by his hand and pulls from him. The boy stands up and they walk inside her room, where she closes the door. The wide window is waiting for them, exposing a dark sky sprinkled with starts and a half moon.

“I’m going to ask you something, Harry,” Amelia says while they sit in front of the window.

“Tell me.”

“I know you asked me to keep your secret,” Amelia says, giving him no time to comment. “But I think you should tell the world about it.”

Harry doesn’t answer. First, because Amelia and him hadn’t talk a lot about that lately; second, because he’s still trying to figure out how to tell the world.

“My mommy knows!” Harry protests, pouting like a little puppy. Amelia laughs off his face, her laughter sounds soft like a waltz.

“Yes, but Zayn? Your school mates?”

They fall into an awkward silence, one they aren’t used to have between them. Harry looks at the sky, right where their shinning star is, the one they chose to wish upon.

“Hum… Zayn knows. But… Hey?”

“Yes, Harry?”

Harry turns to his friend to look at her eyes, her shinny and happy honey eyes that are so clear and so sincere when they gaze.

“Do you… Hum… Would… Do you think is it bad to keep this to my closer ones?” He’s stuttering like a three years old boy and he doesn’t know why. Somehow, he doesn’t want to upset Amelia, he needs her approval and it’s ridiculous because she’s _way much younger_ than him.

“I think its fine,” Amelia nods, smiling. “Also, I don’t understand why you have to ‘come out’. Straight people don’t come out.”

Harry laughs at the comment, finding oddly pleasant the way Amelia thinks.

She has been the first person to whom Harry came out to. Years ago, when he found out that dating a girl was the least thing he wanted to do, he told Amelia, because she was the kind of sister Gemma never was.

When his older sister Gemma left for good, choosing his boyfriend over her family; Harry was debased. He would never, ever pick someone over their family, because a good partner would never make you pick between your family and them if they know how much family means.

Gemma wasn’t that kind of girl. She left Harry and his mom alone, forever. Same as Harry’s father did.

“I love you, buggy bug.”

“I love you too. But you need to tell Dr. Grimshaw that you like boys,” she finishes for him, leaving Harry in awe. He isn’t expecting this, Amelia being so carefree and so previewing of his emotions. “Harry, I know it! You are in love with Dr. Grimshaw, I know it!”

“Heeeey!” Harry protests, trying to stop the smile in his lips. “I’m not in love with him. I think he’s… Fit.”

“You love him!” Amelia teases him. Harry, as a reply, jumps on her and attacks her with tickles. The air turns into a blend of happy yells, loud laughter and pure happiness, and everything seems to be a fairytale for a moment.

“I don’t love Nick, but I won’t complain if he wants to be my prince,” Harry jokes once the tickles battle is over.

“Oh, I will work on that, ok?” she says, holding his hand.

Harry has to remember himself that Amelia is only ten years old.

 

*

 

It is Niall’s fault that Amelia learned how to use Snapchat and Facetime and, consequently, decided to keep in touch with Harry even when he’s in school. Not that he minds, though.

In a fairy tale, Amelia will be the daughter of a very business queen that is in charge of her kingdom, reason why she can’t be hundred percent with her. In reality, she’s the daughter of a divorced business woman who doesn’t care about anything but herself.

That’s why he tries to visit Amelia almost every day after school, that’s why he spends a lot of time with her, and that’s why he’s sitting in her room, hiding behind the bed, trying to set a trap to Dr. Payne.

“Don’t speak,” Amelia orders to Harry, snuggling at his side and trying to see under the bed. “Shh, be quiet!”

“You’re the one talking!” Harry objects, whispering.

Amelia presses her inner finger against her lips in a sign for Harry to be quiet. The door is open and they hear footsteps, probably from the poor Dr. Payne that’s trying to find them.

“Miss Smith? Mr. Styles?”

 _Shit_ , no, it’s not Dr. Payne. It’s Dr. Grimshaw. Harry knows what Amelia will do, and before he can stop her, she’s already standing up.

“Dr. Grimshaw!” Harry hates her. Not really, but hypothetically speaking, he hates her. He knows Amelia, the sneaky little girl will try to set him up with Nick and Harry doesn’t do flirting. He’s awful at the flirting game.

“What were you doing down there, Amelia?”

“Harry lost his necklace.”

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry knows he’s red as a tomato and he’s visibly embarrassed, yet he has no choice but to stand up and fake the biggest smile he can.

“Hey, Nick.”

“Hi, Harry.”

Amelia smirks smugly when Harry and Nick exchange gazes, and then she quickly goes to sit on her bed, ready to be checked by the doctor. Nick walks towards her and Harry remains still on his place, without knowing what to do with his hands.

“Dr. Grimshaw, are you single?” Amelia throws the question as if it was something completely normal to ask.

Nick chuckles. “Why are you asking, little lady?”

Amelia looks at Harry, winking an eye at him. Before she can say anything, something walks thought the door.

“Dr. Grimshaw, I’m sorry that I’m late.”

To say that Harry is immediately captivated by the voice is an understatement. He’s completely mesmerized with the high pitched, soft, strong and jingly voice that fills the room, getting inside Harry’s brain to catch his attention completely, leaving no space to think something else but _him_.

Him, a tiny boy wrapped in a tight black jogging that exposes his perfect curves, a white apron that doesn’t let Harry see his upper body (but he’s sure it’s as delicious as his lower body); a face sculptured by the hand of an angel, sharp cheekbones and soft, thin rosy lips.

“Tomlinson,” Nick says as soon as the beautiful human being walks inside the room. “You’re really late.”

“I know,” he gasps, glancing at Harry. As soon as their eyes meet, Harry feels as if the world has stopped moving. “Sorry, lad.”

Harry didn’t know this boy, and suddenly he needs him.

_He needs him more than he needs to breathe._

“I’m not your lad, I’m your boss.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Nick.”

Nick rolls his eyes and comes back to Amelia, who doesn’t pay any attention to Louis. “What were we saying, Dr. Nick?”

“You were asking if I was single,” Nick says, glancing at Harry. “I am, lady.”

“That’s so great!”

Louis approaches the bed silently, trying to see if there’s anything he can do for Nick. Harry watches him silently, and when they exchanges gazes for the second time, Louis mutters a week “hi” to him.

“Hi,” Harry replies.

“Louis, please, circle all the positive numbers,” Nick orders, giving him a pile of papers.

“Sure,” he nods, going to seat in the chair in the corner.

Harry isn’t listening to Amelia anymore because his attention is fully on Louis. He’s so, so tiny, he could fit perfectly in Harry’s lap. He’s a blend of kitten and angel, and Harry wants to kiss him.

Louis knows he’s being observed; Harry bets his life on it. That’s why he starts nibbling the top of the pen or the reason why he moves so flamboyantly.

“…have dinner with me this weekend.”

“He’d love it!!” Amelia shrieks, waking Harry up from his daydreams. “Would you, Harry?”

“What?” Harry stutters, confused.

“I was asking you if you would like to have dinner this weekend.”

Nick is asking him out. In any other day, Harry would have said yes. But now _Louis_ is sitting on the corner and Harry is pretty sure he’s the love of his damn life. He can’t compare Nick’s big and tall body with Louis’s curvy and petite.

_He wants petite and curvy forever._

All eyes are on Harry, making him uncomfortable. Amelia is very pleased with herself, its crystal clear that she really thinks she did a great job. Harry doesn’t know how to tell her that Louis is the one, not Nick.

“Hum… I have a date already… I’m so… sorry.” Harry is a shit liar but none of them seem to notice. Well, nobody except Louis notices. The boy coughs loudly behind Harry and he knows he’s laughing at him.

“A date?” Amelia asks, frowning. “With who? Why didn’t I know?”

“With…” Harry turns to Louis. “Him.”

A death, sharp silence falls over them. Harry holds his breath; Nick opens wide his eyes on clear surprise. Amelia stands up on bed, approaching Harry.

“Are you mad?” she asks, looking at Louis. “He’s too short for you.”

“Hey, kiddo, I’m not small!” Louis protests and Harry thinks he’s adorable. “I’m 5’9’’!”

“Yes, in your dreams!” Amelia fights back. She’s hard, the little warrior, and Harry, deep inside his heart, is really pleased to see how strong she is.

“Stop this,” Nick asks, serious. “I’m working here so I’d like if Mr. Styles and Mr. Tomlinson don’t bring their romantic problems here. Also, Amelia, I’d like you to sit down.”

Amelia sighs loudly and obeys, not before sending daggers eyes to Louis. Harry smirks, loving to see how those little ones fight like kids.

“I’m sorry that my date wasn’t good, Mr. Grimshaw.”

“Not your fault, lady. Thank you, anyway.”

The rest of the session goes with an uncomfortable silence. The only thing Harry enjoys are the sneaky glances he shares with Louis. He swears he smiles to him. He swears he’s flirting.

 

*****

 

Louis doesn’t want to admit that the main reason why he goes to the hospital the following morning isn’t his patients or his career, it’s _him_.

He feels awfully guilty, as if his hopes to see Harry again were a way of being unfaithful to Nick, his monster’s friend, who offered him the job even when Louis was just starting.

He should be there only for himself. His mother got him the job to raise money, to start saving his own income to be independent. He should be focused on his work.

Not in fucking flirting.

_(He can’t help it, though. Work is boring. Harry is pretty)_

Maybe his insecurity makes him turn around in the corner and go to the cafeteria instead of Nick’s office.

He never really cared about other people; reason why he decided to become a nurse in the first place. He is absolutely convinced that getting attached to the patients can lead you to a death due to stress, so he tries to not care.

And there’s _Harry and Amelia_.

“Hello.”

It’s Nick. Fucking Nick Grimshaw and Louis isn’t on the mood to pretend he likes his boss.

“Hey, Nick.”

Nick sits down in front of him and offers him a cup of coffee. Louis accepts it just for courtesy, but tries to be extra careful on his manners to make it clear that he doesn’t want to be talking in a friendly way with him.

“I wanted to apologize for the moment you had to live yesterday,” he apologizes, kindly. “I didn’t know you and Styles were dating.”

“We aren’t,” Louis corrects him, and he hates that he’s blushing like a baby. “He just asked me out and I say yes. That’s all.”

“Oh, so…” Nick licks his lips, thoughtful, and Louis is afraid of what’s coming next. “So I still have chances?”

“Nick…”

“I know he asked you out,” Nick adds, raising eyebrows. “But he flirts with me. I’m sure.”

Louis wasn’t expecting this. Nick isn’t supposed to want Harry. Harry is his, it doesn’t matter if they barely talked and they don’t know each other. It’s an insane and unreasonable jealousy the one Louis feels and he’s ashamed because of it.

_(He doesn’t care. Harry became his and he became Harry’s since they laid eyes on each other)_

“Do you like Harry?”

Maybe Louis’s question comes too quickly and his voice has the undeniable spark of jealousy he was never able to hide. This is crazy because he didn’t even speak to Harry and he’s already being jealous.

“I might fancy him. He’s quite attractive, if you ask me,” Nick nods, smirking. “I’m guessing you like guys too so I can speak with this about it, right?”

“Yes, I like guys,” Louis nods and he doesn’t understand why Nick is being so nice with him. He doesn’t want to be his friend. “You’re my boss, Nick. You shouldn’t…”

“I like it,” Nick interrupts, winking. “I like to talk about dicks with someone.”

“Ok, enough,” Louis says, standing up. He doesn’t want to keep this conversation going. He hates to think that Nick is talking about Harry like that. “ I have work to do.”

“See you. Have fun with my boy and sends my regards to Jay!”

Louis ignores the comment and tries really hard to handle the need to punch Nick in the face.

He walks by the hallway too focused on his own jealousy to notice that Niall is approaching to him with a wide smile on his face, making his good mood obvious.

“Louis, lad! So good to see you, I have great news.”

Louis turns around, facing his friend. His lack of loudness usual on him makes it clear how annoyed he is.

“Why does Nick have to be Amelia’s doctor?”

Niall frowns, caught by surprise. He stutters a few words before replying, “He’s the director of the children’s department. He isn’t Amelia’s doc per se. Amelia’s Liam.”

“He’s a douche bag. Nick, I mean,” Louis growls, crossing his arms against his chest.

“He’s your boss.”

“Who cares,” Louis mutters, sighing on annoyance. “Which is your big news, Irish?”

“My man is moody,” Niall notices, winking at him. “I have good news and bad news too. Well, at least….”

“Spit it out.” Louis cuts his babbling.

“Harry is here,” Niall explains, but he doesn’t seem too excited about that. The explanation follows his words, “but Amelia isn’t improving. She’s actually getting… Worst.”

He wasn’t expecting this. Not Amelia going downhill with treatment, he actually knew that already.

He wasn’t expecting the twist on his stomach and the stitch on his guts when Niall gives him the news.

It will kill Harry.

_(Louis promised he wouldn’t care about patients. He’s failing, miserably)_

Louis knows nothing about Harry, but one glance was enough to make him know how much the boy cares for the little girl. It reminds him of his sisters, and only God knows how broken he would be if one of them were about to die.

He understands Harry with his whole heart; and maybe that’s the reason why he wants to help him.

“Is Harry here?” Louis interrupts him, raising his head as if he could spot him around.

“He’s with Amelia’s mom and his mum.”

“Oh. Right,” he remains in silence, dancing around the future possibilities. “Shit, this will kill Harry, Niall,” Louis says, worried. Its surprises Niall how worried he actually looks, and Louis doesn’t notice.

“You barely know Harry.”

“It’s crystal clear that he loves that girl, mate,” Louis explains as a matter of fact. “I don’t need to know him to notice it.”

“Yeah, he has been friend of her for a year now.”

Louis nods, thoughtful. He wants to ask, to know more about Harry and Amelia, yet he knows that knowing more about them is equal to get attached and his number one rule is _never get attached to patients._

“He’s kinda cute.”

“Oh, fuck off, Louis,” Niall laughs, patting Louis on the back. “Always going for the cute ones. Be careful with Harry, lad, he’s a very good person. Plus, he has already with Amelia; he doesn’t need a broken heart.”

“There’s no man in this earth with the guts to break such a beautiful heart, Niall.”

_(He means it. He feels incapable of hurting Harry in any way)_

“Ok, I’m gonna vomit. Wait a sec.”

Niall walks away, still laughing, leaving a pissed off Louis alone. He rolls his eyes, sighing, and turns around to head to Nick’s office. He knows Amelia isn’t his business, but he wants Harry to be his business and Harry means Amelia, so…

“Louis.”

“Oh.”

Louis knows this voice. Also, he knows those pretty green eyes that are staring at him; as well as the twist on his stomach when he sees him.

Harry is standing in front of him with a lady next to his side, holding his hand.

He hopes that they are not couple. She looks pretty old for him, most all, she’s a woman and Louis doesn’t want Harry to like women.

“Harry. Hey. Hum, great to see you.”

“Hi. Erm… She’s my mom,” he introduces the lady and Louis doesn’t want to admit how relieved it makes him feel. “Mom, he’s Louis.”

“Nice to meet you, dear,” the woman says, extending a hand to Louis. She kisses his cheek when they shake hands; she’s as polite as her son, Louis notices. “I’m Anne. Are you in Amelia’s team, too?”

“Something like that,” Louis nods, trying his best to avoid looking at Harry. The kid has a strange power to turn him into a ball of nerves and he doesn’t want to screw everything up in front of… Her mother.

_(Mother-in-law sounds pretty good for Louis. If so)_

“I’m the second assistant of Dr. Grimshaw and he’s in charge of the Children’s Department.”

“Oh, so you are a nurse?”

“Yeah,” he nods, licking his lips nervously. “Gotta earn some money.”

“We came to see Amelia and we couldn’t, Liam won’t tell us what’s happening,” Harry explains and it sounds as if he was testing Louis to tell him the truth. Louis doesn’t have the guts to tell him, though. “Is she doing badly?”

“Harry, love,” Anne says, kissing his son’s temple. “I told you, we have to be patient. Can you, darling? Dr. Payne is doing his best.”

“She’s right,” Louis nods, agreeing with Anne. “Be patient, love.”

Harry makes a shy grin while he nods with his head, his mother caressing his curls. They’re quite cute, Louis thinks, he whishes he could caress Harry’s lousy hair, too.

“I’ll go to the parking lot, Harry.”

“Can I speak with Louis a sec?”

“Take your time,” Anne nods, winking at his son. Louis swears he isn’t blushing like a fucking idiot. “Nice to meet you, Louis.”

Louis watches her walk away without being able to mutter a word. He doesn’t really care about other people’s opinion, really, he doesn’t need their approval. Yet he wants to make an impact on Anne, and in his stupid desperation, he ends up being awkward.

“Pleasure is mine,” he whispers when Anne is already gone.

“She’s gone, Lou,” Harry giggles, approaching him.

“I’m so bad in this thing,” Louis mutters. “She’s really nice, though.”

“Thank you,” Harry thanks gladly. “We were arguing, anyway. She gets really stubborn sometimes.”

“Why? She doesn’t seem to be the arguing type, if I have to be honest.”

“She… Hum… She says I spent too much time in here.”

“She’s right, beautiful.”

Louis notices that he gets chills as soon as he hears Harry speaking. It happens again, the world stops spinning and his surrounding disappears. His mind can’t think because there’s Harry.

When Louis had become such a teenage girl, he doesn’t know.

“Hospitals make us miserable.” Louis is approaching to Harry. Harry is taller than him, Louis sees him even taller. “You’re young to be here. I know you love the girl, but you need to hang out more.”

“I hang out,” Harry stutters, obstinate. “Not with my boss, tough.”

Louis laughs at the comment, yet the bitterness on his voice is pretty noticeable. He remembers that Nick _really_ wants to date Harry, so it doesn’t seem so funny anymore.

“What, Harry?”

“Nothing.”

“Curly,” Louis says, raising eyebrows. “What’s in your mind?”

“Nothing,” Harry insists, shaking his head. He’s is really close to him, he isn’t sure if he can handle more time like this. He’s sweating like a human heat and it’s embarrassing. “I mean… You’re right.”

Louis smiles, the corner of his eyes get crinkly.

“I know, I’m always right. That’s why I’m picking you up at eight this Friday, ok?”

“Ok,” Harry agrees without much thinking because his tongue is absolutely disconnected with his brain. Louis knows this because he feels the same. “I mean; what?”

Louis chuckles at the question, rolling his eyes. “You invited me, Harry, dear. Yesterday, remember?”

“I… Was trying to…”

“I don’t care,” Louis confesses, winking. “I want to have this lovely date with certain curly haired boy with very bad taste for shirts.”

“Heyyyyy!” Harry protests, pouting. “My shirts are stylish!”

“Sure, muffin,” Louis says and the smile on his face shouldn’t be this fond, but well. “So, Friday?”

“Louis, you don’t need to do this if you don’t want to,” Harry says, tripping over his tongue. He doesn’t want to force Louis into having a date when they don’t even know each other. “You don’t need to be nice with me.”

“Harry, I want to go on a date with you.”

“You don’t even know me,” Harry whispers, looking down at his feet.

“Then give me the chance to do it, pretty boy.”

 

*

 

It’s easy to forget how gorgeous and perfect Louis Tomlinson is, Harry notices. Not because Louis is a forgettable person, not a bit, just because he seems to be too gorgeous to be real.

Yet there he is, sitting in the table of the corner, sipping his milkshake while he stares at the windows with a dreamy expression on his face. He’s waiting for him, ignoring how fast his heart is beating.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, making his stomach twist. He takes it, expecting to see a text from Louis, yet he sees the name of Amelia on the screen.

 

**GOOD LUCK WITH THE DWARF!!!! :D XX**

 

Harry chocks with his milkshake when he reads the message, trying to laugh and swallowing at the same time. Amelia is one of a kind, for sure.

 

**He’s not a dwarf, he’s just tiny :) Thank you! Xx**

Amelia replies right back.

**don’t kiss on the first date :P**

Harry is really tempted to answer, but the figure of Louis catches his attention. He looks up to find a beautiful, tidy and handsome Louis smiling at him, wearing a sinfully tight jean and a tank top that exposes his thick muscles.

God, Harry loves him.

“Hi, Lou,” Harry says softly when he meets the boy. Louis turns to him and offers him a tiny smile. Harry smiles back and sits in front of him. “You look nice today.”

“I like the milkshakes here,” he says, pointing his brown milkshake and sitting in front of him. “Hi, Haz.”

Harry bites the interior of his cheek, trying to stop the wide grin that’s trying to crack his face. The waitress comes and takes their order, happily talking with Harry while Louis doesn’t add a single word.

When they’re left alone, Louis keeps silent. He stares blankly at the table and Harry starts feeling the awkwardness between them. He doesn’t want to take his phone because he wants Louis to know that he’s there for him and just for him.

The waitress comes with their orders and Harry starts eating his waffle slowly and lazily. It feels nice, being there with Louis talking about nothing at all.

Finally, Louis looks at Harry and gets the courage to ask. “She was flirting. You know, the waitress.”

“I don’t care,” Harry says, idly chewing the tip of his straw. “I’m sure I’m gay. Also, I have you here, pretty much the most gorgeous view in the entire world.”

“You’re such a cheesy flatterer,” Louis mocks him, rolling his eyes.

“You like it.”

“No way, curly haired giraffe.”

Their conversation flows easily and it’s filled with joy and pure honesty between them. Harry just says what he thinks; it’s not like a regular date where he tries to be careful about what he might say or not.

It feels as if the right thing to do with Louis is being absolutely honest. There’s no harm between them, and Harry wants him to know his real self.

“What about your mom, Lou?” Louis has one of his tiny hands resting on the table, and Harry  _really, really_  wants to hold it.

“Hum, she’s a nurse, like me. She got me the job at the hospital. She’s amazing,” he explains, tripping with his own tongue.

“Sounds like a good mother,” he mutters and finally gives in, wrapping Louis’s hand with his.

Louis shakes a bit and adds: “She is. Yet— I’m not sure the hospital life is the life I want.”

“Don’t tell me you want to be a singer. It would be too clichéd,” Harry teases, smirking.

“A painter, actually,” Louis corrects him, raising eyebrows. “That’s why I admire Amelia. Have you seen her art?”

“I did!” Harry nods, excited. “She has a big talent for someone of her age.”

“Yeah, she does,” Louis mutters, and he seems like he wants to drop Harry’s hand but he doesn’t. He actually intertwines their fingers. “Your hands are big, kitten.”

Harry giggles and nods with the head. He also likes when Louis calls him kitten. He likes it  _a lot_.

“Yup. Yours are tiny.”

“I’m tiny.”

“You’re beautiful,” Harry whispers sincerely, squeezing the boy’s hand.

Harry finishes his milkshake and asks for the bill. They keep talking about random things, knowing about each other, exploring each other’s lives.

“Lou,” Harry asks after he pays the bill and they’re walking outside the restaurant. “Is it bad if I want to hold your hand?”

Louis shakes his head and adds, “Is it bad that I want to hug you?”

“What? Really?” he asks, half surprised and half warped up by the tenderness that boy makes him feel. “Come here, you silly,” Harry jokes and covers Louis with his arms, pulling him in. Louis and he fit perfectly, like puzzle pieces, and the close contact makes Harry feel all warm and cozy inside. He likes to hold Louis and Louis likes to be held.

Harry presses a kiss to Louis’s forehead. “We should go. People is staring.”

“Staring?” Louis repeats, frowning.

“Yeah, it happens all the time. That’s because I’m beautiful,” Harry teases, winking at Louis, and the older boys whispers a soft  _‘yes, you are’_  that Harry doesn’t know if it was meant to be heard.

*

 

Louis isn't expecting to wake up clanged into Harry like a Koala. They are just friends, friends getting to know each other, finding comfortableness on each other’s presence, discovering the perks of a close friendship.

They’re not falling for each other with the speed of lighting, so there’s no need to kiss or fuck each other into oblivion.

Yet that’s what Louis wants to do.

The breathing of Harry is peaceful and has a steady rhythm. His body is warm and it’s glued to Louis, curled up like a little kitten, holding his hand lazily. Their bodies were made in some inexplicable way for them to fit together in the little space of the hospital room couch. 

Yet what Louis isn't used to  _at all_ is to be awakened by the tender pats of a little girl who's sitting at the edge of the couch with her pretty pajamas and a worried expression.

"Shit," Louis mutters when he wakes up to find Amelia sitting on his feet. "Fucking shit, Amelia, you almost gave me a heart attack."

Amelia doesn’t answer right away. That's when Louis considers that waking up to find his best friend spooning in the couch with another  _male_  isn't exactly something she's used to see.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes. He does it a lot, apologizes to Amelia, as if he was trying to find their approval. "Harry..."

"It's fine, Louis," she nods, settling in between the men. "Harry is happy with you, I’m not stupid. You're fiends."

Louis doesn't know how to explain that probably the word 'friend' doesn't fit his and Harry's relationship. He doesn't know what Amelia was taught about gender equality and the matter, and Louis doesn't feel like the right person to explain.

"Amelia?" The sleepy voice of Harry wakes Louis up from his daydreams. "Hey, warrior."

Amelia slides by the couch to snuggle at Harry’s side. Louis carefully drops Harry's body, getting off the couch.

He recoils last night, remembering that he and Harry decided to stay in the hospital watching Disney movies until Amelia fell asleep, followed by Harry right away.

He wanted to come back home, he wasn’t planning to fall asleep too.

"Did you sleep with Louis here?"

Louis looks at his reflection in the mirror, suddenly remembering the tender caress and soft whispers their shared the previous night after Amelia fell asleep. He's sure he's fucking blushing and he doesn't understand how they haven’t ended up fucking each other into oblivion yet.

Everything is different with Harry.

"We did," Harry nods. "Does it bother you?"

"Not at all," Amelia shakes her head, kissing her friend on the cheek. "Your ex girlfriend never wanted to sleep with you," she says as if it was something really easy to talk about. Louis freezes on his place and tries his best to avoid looking at Harry. God, he almost can hear his heartbeats from where he's standing. "I know you don't like sleeping alone. So I think Louis is very nice to you."

Louis can't contain it anymore, as he turns to the boy and girl, who are staring at him.

"Thank you, bug."

“It doesn’t mean that we are friends,” Amelia warns Louis, pointing at him with an accusatory finger.

_(He loves her. She’s so like him)_

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Harry interrupts, stretching his body while Louis tries to fix his messy hair. “I just did.”

“That’s because you’re comfortable with Louis,” Amelia explains, getting off the couch to open the curtains. The sunlight welcomes them in a brand new day. “Point for you, Louis.”

“You’re a very competitive one, kiddo,” Louis says, smirking. Amelia doesn’t turn to Louis; she hides a triumphant smirk and goes to sit down on Harry’s lap. She’s marking her territory like a possessive puppy and Louis lets her be.

He knows you can never fight against a child. Children always win, it’s law.

“Hey, warrior,” Harry whispers, kissing Amelia’s temple when she settles on him. The little girl reaches her hand to Harry’s lousy hair and starts braiding it, in another subtle way of making from Harry her property.

“I want to braid your hair. You don’t mind when I touch your hair, don’t you?” she reassures, still gripping a lock of hair.

“Not at all,” Harry nods. His green eyes look up at Louis, his lips bends up on a warm smile as soon as their eyes meet. Louis feels the way his heart grows of the size of the American continent; still trying to process everything Harry makes him feel.

 _It’s too soon_ , he has to remind himself, too soon to feel this connection to Harry. He barely knows him.

“What are you thinking, Lou?”

Louis is taken back to reality by the soft voice of Harry.

“Nothing,” he lies, yet he knows Harry knows what he was thinking about. It’s always him, always them. “I have work to do. Hey, Amelia, as far as I’m concerned you have some tests today.”

“God, I thought you have forgotten,” Amelia sighs, rolling her eyes. She finished a thin braid in Harry’s hair and turns to look at Louis. “I know Harry is beautiful but you are a doctor, Louis, you have work to do, you can’t spend the entire day watching him.”

“In my defense,” Louis says, taking the Amelia’s daily checking papers. “I’m not a doctor, just a nurse. And by the way, I think someone is jealous.”

“Yeah, you wish!” she shrieks.

Louis likes the girl. _(Probably too much)_

 

Harry leaves the hospital to go to school, holding onto the promise that Louis will pick him up and they’re going to have lunch and enjoy they day together.

Zayn finds amusing the fact that _Louis and Amelia_ is the only subject of Harry’s conversation, and he doesn’t stop mocking him for being such a helpless lover. Harry doesn’t mind, though, he likes to know that people can see how strong his feelings are for those two.

Louis keeps his promises and picks Harry up, driving him to his favorite American restaurant in town. Harry doesn’t do anything, giving to Louis the pleasure of being the one who guides their relationship.

When they get off the car and Louis intertwines their fingers together, well, Harry swears the world couldn’t be anymore brighter.

Yet the strong connection they share goes beyond good things. When Louis sits, when he talks, when he asks his order; Harry knows, he just fucking knows he needs to talk about something.

He can’t explain it and he will never be able to, probably. He’s still trying to figure out how they connected so easily and fast.

“Lou,” he calls, stretching a hand to hold his. “What’s wrong?”

“Hum?” Louis asks, chewing his bite of hamburger. He swallows and drinks a bit of water before answering. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, shrugging shoulders.

The weirdest thing is that, maybe, he’s only imagining this. He’s making up his mind to justify whatever thing he’s feeling for Louis, to justify that they actually belong to each other. Maybe he’s just imagining.

“Yeah, there’s something that… Has been bugging me.”

Harry smiles, triumphal. He’s not fucking imagining, he never was.

“It’s about Amelia.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Harry asks immediately, his face dropping serious.

“I…” Louis plays with his fork absentmindedly, pretending to put in order his chaotic thoughts. When he rises his eye sat Harry, he’s already staring. “I just don’t want to lie to you, Haz. About her.”

“You don’t have to,” he mutters, and it feels like a low punch in his stomach.

“That’s the problem, technically I have to,” Louis explains, sighing. “Nick doesn’t want me to tell you everything because he says you’re oversensitive and some things can upset you.”

“What?” Harry asks, frowning. He swears he hates Nick sometimes. He isn’t a child, for God’s sake. He’s a sensitive person, of course he is, but that’s only because he loves too much. He doesn’t doo ‘middles’, he likes to go for all. Yet it doesn’t mean he’s not capable of handling the bad things in life. “I’m not a kid! I can handle the pain, I’m… I’m not stupid, Louis!”

“I know, love,” Louis nods, and Harry doesn’t pass by the nickname. “Nick is the one who doesn’t. I promised him I wouldn’t tell you, but…” he bites his lower lip, trying to be smooth about the matter. “She isn’t improving. Amelia.”

Harry doesn’t reply right away. In the back of his mind, he knows that Amelia isn’t improving. He started suspecting it when her hair started to fall and she asked for a wig, when she stopped having forces to run and jump, when _she stopped drawing_.

Yet putting into words his suspicions, it makes them become true. He wishes they would remain like that, like plain suspicions instead of turning into something real.

“I know.” His voice sounds so broken that it scares him.

“Why does she mean so much to you, Haz?”

Harry sighs, giving up to his feelings. He runs a hand through his greasy hair, hoping that Louis doesn’t find him too annoying for being so affecting.

“I’m… She was the first person I came out to,” he remembers, calling to mind those days when he pretended he was straight and liked girls. “I had a girlfriend… She was nice, but I didn’t like her. I knew I liked guys, always knew. I didn’t have the guts to tell the world, tho.”

“Really?” Louis asks, surprised. Harry doesn’t know why he looks surprised; he isn’t a very strong person, in the end. “I play music shows in the hospital since I was fifteen here. One day I just… I remember I was crying in the bathroom because I couldn’t hold it anymore. Amelia came.”

“She’s really a smart child,” Louis observes, talking truth.

“She’s an extraordinary human being,” Harry agrees, nodding with the head. “She’s battling with this disease as if it was only a magic curse, and she’s so understanding of everything and everyone… I… My sister, Gemma, she’s gone for good, you know? She married this guy that hated me and moved out to America. I have been so alone since then. I…” His voice abandons him at the end of his sentence.

“Haz, pretty.”

Harry is tearing up a little, unable to control his feelings. Louis stands up and goes to sit next to Harry, wrapping him with his arms. He doesn’t care that they’re in a middle of a restaurant and they’re getting weird glances; and Harry loves him for that.

“It’s ok, I got you. Don’t cry love, I’m here.”

“I don’t want her to die, Lou,” Harry pleads, gripping Louis’s arms forcefully. “I don’t.”

“Nobody wants that, pumpkin,” Louis coos, his voice soft as cotton. “But everybody dies, eventually. It’s the cycle of life, if you let me quote The Lion King.”

Harry giggles at the mention of the movie; wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He raises his head up to look at Louis, who’s surprisingly close to him. Louis doesn’t ask, he just leans into kiss him sweetly on his cheeks, trying to give him the peace of mind he’s needing right now. Louis’s kisses are healing.

“She deserves the world. I’m still trying to understand why Tabitha doesn’t pay her attention. I mean… She’s her daughter.”

“I don’t know, Haz,” Louis shakes his head, leaning on the table to take a piece of his hamburger. Harry watches with amazement how Louis’s hollow cheeks move while he chews, then his Adam apple moving when he swallows. He loves Louis’s Adam apple, he could probably suck one thousands of hickeys there. “Maybe she gave up already. People have different ways of coping with pain. Maybe Tabitha pretends that Amelia’s doesn’t exist so she won’t have to handle the pain of loosing her.”

“That’s horrible,” Harry cusses, frowning with disagreement. “And selfish.”

“I didn’t say that I agree,” Louis points out, arching and eyebrow. “Pain is different for everyone, Haz. We have to understand that.”

Harry doesn’t talk, giving Louis time to finish his lunch. The older boy doesn’t stop holding his hand in the meantime, struggling to do all the tasks with a single hand.

Harry admires how he his, how handsome and gorgeous Louis is; and how all the stars align when he’s there with him. Maybe the loss of Amelia is going to be relieved by the adding up of someone like Louis in his life.

Everything finds its balance, Harry thinks. Yet he wishes he didn’t have to loose people to have that balance.

 

*

 

Louis is starting to get _anxious_. Anxious because they have had four dates and counting, and all they had made is held hands and kiss his cheeks. He wants; he needs Harry as a starved body needs food. It’s crazy and has no sense, yet it’s what he feels.

It’s the fourth official date they have; Louis drives Harry to a fancy restaurant. He tries as hard as he can to make it seem like a proper and real date.

You know, the kind of date where the main purpose is to make of him his boyfriend and finally, finally _getting a kiss._

Louis is pretty sure he’s starting to fall for Harry. There’s nothing about him that makes him suspicious or prickly, even the way Harry breaths seems to perfect to be truth.

_(It would sound creepy but Louis ignores it. He likes the way Harry’s chest move to the rhythm of his breathing. So what)_

When they’re headed to the car once their date is over, Harry asks Louis to drive him to the hospital to visit Amelia. Even when the doctors say she’s has been improving lately, Louis knows better; and he suspects Harry does, too.

That’s why he ends up in the hospital room, leaning against the door, staring in awe at the beautiful scene that is Harry and Amelia. 

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, covering her with the sheets. Once he's done, he doesn't miss the good night kiss in the forehead. It's embarrassing how smitten Louis feels with the boy.

"Tell me a story, Harry."

She is the one who asks, of course. That little girl is always craving adventure and danger, she's nothing like Harry. She's actually pretty similar to Louis. Weirdly enough, Louis is pleased about it.

"Hum..." Harry burrows his lips, thoughtful. "I don't have any good story."

"Please!" she begs, doing the exact pouty face Harry does when he's pleading.

Louis thinks it wouldn't be bad to save Harry's ass from that situation, so he steps inside, making his presence noticed. 

"Hey, kiddos." 

The little girl, as well as Harry, turns to Louis. The smile on Harry's lip is so adorable and Louis wants to kiss him so much that it aches.

"I have a great story to tell. Wanna hear it?"

"A real story?” Amelia asks, squinting. “Ok, tell it to us!”

They are great listeners, Louis has to say. They ask the right questions, exclaim in the right situations and clap their hands when the story is done.

They three of them are sitting on bed and Louis almost forgets his present and tricks himself into believing that they are a family. 

He haven't realized until now how much he craves a family. He never thought about it, believing he was too young to wish for it.

Now, surrounded by Harry and Amelia, he feels  _full_. It feels like a family is the right thing to wish for.

_(The change Harry made in him is alarming. He should be scared. He isn’t)_

"Bed time, little one," Harry says, breaking the questionnaire the kid is doing. "Louis and I need rest, you too."

Louis stands up while Harry kisses his friend again, and he's halfway the exit when Amelia's voice stops him: "Louis, give me the good night kiss, too!"

Some kind of weird, warmth emotion overcomes Louis's thought at a point where the only thing he can do is to tear up a little. 

He feels his stomach twisting and he isn't sure if he's awfully happy or awfully sad. It's weird how much those emotions have been mixing up those days.

He wipes his tears with the back of his hand before turning around and smiling as wide as he can.

"Prepare yourself, my kisses are highly requested!"

He kisses her and joins Harry before walking out of the room. Harry turns off the lights and closes the door quietly.

Louis is still recovering from the emotions that suddenly shoot him when Harry talks.

"Thank you, Lou," he thanks, his voice so soft Louis could wrap himself into it and sleep forever hearing it. "You're... So nice with her,” he says, “and with me."

"You two make me a softie, honestly," he confesses, winking at the boy. He tries to get back his usual cheeky attitude, but his brain isn't working right yet. 

Harry crocks a smile and nods with the head. Silence falls upon them and it doesn't seem necessary to break it. It's a silence that invites, invites to hug and kiss and  _love_.

Louis is sure he's slowly starting to fall for this kid. Harry is that weird gif life gave him without any logical reason. He's Louis’s angel, so soft and caring in the way he treats him. 

Louis has never been treated like that. He's used to be though, cold and closed to people. 

They walk down the hallway and say goodbye to Niall, who’s playing games with another girl. They get in Louis’s car and drive away.

The way back home is absolutely calm, Harry enjoys recalling all the details of their date, humming a love song unconsciously, thinking about how lovely Louis was for letting him say hello to Amelia.

Before he can realize about it, they’re arrived at Harry’s home. Louis parks and opens Harry’s door, walking him to the door. He’s _this_ charming.

"I guess I should go," Louis stutters awkwardly when Harry opens the door. "Right?"

He doesn’t want to go, that’s crystal clear.

"Right.”

"So... Good night, I guess." Louis says goodbye but he doesn't move an inch. He remains still instead.

Harry stares down at his feet, playing with the fold of his shirt until his tongue trips over the words and he chokes out the question, "Do you want to sleep with me?"

Louis doesn't do innocent and gentle, so the first thing that pops into his mind is that he's being offered of sex. He's used to it. Yet then remember this is  _Harry_ , Harry who is so nice to him and so loving, and Harry who holds him tightly and puts tender little kisses on his cheeks.

"What?"

"Hum... Like. To cuddle. I like to spoon at night." He coughs awkwardly, and Louis thinks it's lovely the way he acts like a little boy. "Not like... Something sexual. I mean, not that I mind sex with you." He blushes hard and adds, "I'd love that, but... Hum. Yeah."

_(Louis wouldn’t mind sex with him, neither. Actually, he’s quite fond of the idea)_

"Haz," Louis whispers, stepping forward to take Harry's hand on his. "I'd love to sleep with you in a cuddly way."

"Really?"

"Yes," he nods and he knows all the cards are on the table. He just gave Harry his heart, probably forever.

He isn’t scared.

 

 

*

 

 

“Louis, can we talk?”

“Sure, girl,” Louis nods, grabbing his needle. He’s in Amelia’s room, about to draw blood in order to make her weekly checks. “Here, I need your arm.”

“Ugh! Louis, modals, please.”

Amelia settles on her chair, shaking her cute little legs. She follows Louis with her curious eyes while the boy manages to get all he needs to do his tasks.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, even when he doesn’t know why. He clutches Amelia’s arm and taps the vein with his index finger. Amelia watches in silence, used to the whole procedure. “Talk to me, girl.”

“Ok, hum,” she says, flinching a bit when Louis places the tip of the needle on her vein. “It’s about Harry.”

“Our Harry? Harry Styles?”

Louis doesn’t want to admit how smitten he’s with Harry, but, real talk, he has been a goner since day one.

“Same,” she nods, half smiling. “I…” Her curious eyes watch her blood filling the syringe, curious, not scared. She’s really strong, Louis thinks. “I know I… Don’t have… Hum. I know I’ll go to heaven soon.”

Louis almost messes up the procedure when Amelia talks. He suddenly turns ice frozen and has to count to ten and take a deep breath to come back to earth and pretend he isn’t touched by the truth in her statement.

“Don’t say that.”

“I just want to know that you will take care of Harry,” she asks, frowning. Louis finishes his tasks and goes to put the syringe on its place. “Harry is… I think he loves you, Louis.”

Louis smiles sadly, shaking his head. “Love can’t happen this quick, kiddo.”

He’s sure about his answer. Or he pretends so, because it scares him how fast his love can grow, how fast his co-dependence to someone else can be highly obvious.

“It can, at least in Harry’s world,” Amelia refuses, pursing her lips. Louis turns to look at her before putting a band-aid on her elbow crease. “He loves you. I want to know your intentions with him.”

“I have no bad intentions, kiddo.”

“I don’t mean that!” she yells, sighing on annoyance. “I mean… Do you want to marry Harry? Because he wants to get married and have five kids, at least. And a house with a swimming pool.”

Louis doesn’t reply right away. Honestly speaking, marriage and family haven’t been on his mind lately (or ever). It only popped in his thought when he saw Harry getting along with Amelia so well; yet beside that, it wasn’t a topic of his consideration. Getting married and having kids is a big responsibility.

Oddly enough, he doesn’t dislike the idea of doing it with Harry.

_(Maybe he’s more over heels in love with Harry from what he thought he was)_

“Yeah,” he finally nods, daydreaming. “It wouldn’t be bad to marry that goofball.”

“Wouldn’t be?” Amelia asks, crossing her arms against her chest. “That’s not an answer, Louis Tomlinson! You should say yes or now!”

“Ok, right, I got it,” he hisses, pretending to be annoyed but smiling warmly. “Yes, I want to marry Harry.”

“You do?”

“I do,” Louis nods and it surprises himself how honest is his answer. Not a hint of doubt or hesitation _(because, yes, he’s far too gone for the curly boy)._ “I want to marry him and have five kids.” He glances at Amelia, smiling smugly, “and a swimming pool.”

“Ok,” she nods happily, approving Louis. “Now give me my crayons! Need to make something pretty for Harry.”

Louis leaves Amelia’s side, letting her go to her special corner in the room where she has her paintings and crayons. Meanwhile, he labels the blood tubes and fills the daily reports, and then someone coughs from the door.

Louis knows Harry has arrived, but he enjoys the pleasure of making him wait. He writes slowly, hiding his smirk while he knows Harry’s eyes are checking him out, desperate to catch every glimpse of him.

“Lou,” Harry finally says. “Don’t ignore me.”

“Oh my God,” Louis exclaims, pretending to be an excited teenager girl. “It’s Harry!”

“The one and only. Hello, Lou.”

Louis walks towards him, kissing him lightly on the cheek before intertwining their hands. He has been really physical with Harry lately but honestly, none of them care.

“Hi, beautiful boy.”

Harry watches Amelia with fond eyes, tears starting to form as he sees her painting that day sunset from her room. He doesn't know how someone so young could be so talented and strong. He whispers to Louis, "I don't know what's going to happen when she loses herself."

Louis is confused by the statement. "What do you mean?" He asks questionably, eyebrows furrowed making him unfairly cute.

But Harry clarifies by saying, "It's selfish to say what will I do when I lose her. Because there are so many other people besides yourself losing her. She's losing herself and that's the biggest loss of all."

“Haz,” Louis whispers, feeling his heart clenching. “You’re not selfish. Just— Loving. You love so much and so plainly.”

“I,” he stutters, and turns around to bury his face on the crock of his neck. “I just don’t want to lose her.”

“They say kids don’t really die,” Louis says, knowing how much of a shitty relief it is, but Harry hears him anyway, because Harry always hears. “They go to heaven and… I don’t remember how that shit ends, honestly.”

Harry giggles, rolling his eyes. He pecks Louis on the cheeks, squeezing his hand as a silent way of thanking him for being there. Louis returns him a big smile.

It’s outrageous how proud he feels for making Harry laugh even when he’s a little gloomy. He has a weird effect on Harry, and effect he’s very glad to explore and potentiate with the only purpose of making of him a happiest man.

Louis can’t believe how cheesy he’s becoming. Lucky him that mind reading isn’t a thing.

“Harry, come here and help me!” Amelia raises her eyes, sighing as a very concerned mom when she sees Louis and Harry so close to each other and so intimate. “Louis, set him free!”

“Can’t,” Louis says, holding Harry’s hand tighter. Harry laughs, trying to get rid of him.

“Let me go!”

“Can’t,” Louis repeats.

He feels the bravest man on earth. A sudden rush of courage takes place on his body and as a final point he decides to go for what he wants. He decides to claim Harry as his.

Filled with the warm emotions Harry makes him feel, he brings Harry close and stands in his tip toes to press a light kiss to Harry’s mouth. The older boy freezes, open his eyes widely before smiling into the kiss.

They have been so attached to the hip that they don’t realize it’s their first kiss. It feels right, as if was the most normal thing to do it this world.

Harry’s lips are soft against Louis’s, pressing with excitement. Louis thinks that this is what it feels like kissing; then he never kissed before.

“Lou,” Harry gasps into his mouth, wrapping his arms around Louis’s waist to pull him into a tight embrace, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Harry kisses with a blend of eagerness, possessiveness and love and Louis fucking loves it. He is like wine and Louis is desperate to get drunk.

“Ugh, you two are disgusting! This is a hospital, not a motel!”

“Go with her, Haz,” Louis says, breaking the kiss. Harry is glowing like a firefly; his smile is wide, his dimples melting Louis’s heart. “We will have time to kiss each other till we can’t breathe tomorrow night, ok?”

“What’s happening tomorrow night?” Amelia asks, the curious one.

“Prince is getting Princess to the dance,” Louis explains, winking at her. Before leaving the two friends alone, he kisses Harry one more time just because he can.

 

*

 

Louis is sure he’s living in some kind of weird and addictive state of dreaming right now. He can’t believe he’s holding the hand of the prettiest boy in town; coming back from a great party to find out how smitten they’re with each other.

Life is great, sometimes, and Louis wonders what he has done to deserve all this happiness.

He was never sure about deserving happiness; yet right now, he doesn’t really care. All he cares about is the way Harry leans into him while he walks, his fancy floury shirt unbuttoned and his pink metal boots shinning with the lights of night.

“I have been watching you all night long,” Harry croons, winking at Louis. “You’re as beautiful as the moon, dear.”

“Moon isn’t beautiful,” Louis protests, grinning goofily. “You’re the worst for poems, Haz.”

“You love me.”

“Hell, I do.”

Louis knows he doesn’t really mean his answer; everything is too recent and new to mean it. Love doesn’t find that way; you can’t possibly fall in love with someone by knowing him for a few weeks.

How many secrets kept, how many unspoken truths, how many dark spots in the past they don’t know about each other. Yet Louis feels as if he hasn’t been honest with anyone as much as he is with Harry.

“This is my place,” Harry announces after a long walk of silence.

Louis is pretty sure his mind is thinking too loud, making it easy for Harry to hear. He’s unable to stop it, though; he wants Harry _to know, to meet, and to discover_ him.

“I know you want to ask me to come in,” Louis teases, half smirking.

Harry blushes as if he was caught up in the middle of doing something embarrassing. He’s that cute; Louis could kill him with tender kisses and endless caresses. His love for him is eternal.

He never thought in that term before. He though about hours, days, months even years, but never _eternity_. Eternity is such a complex and difficult term to come up with; the mind can’t understand it right away.

It feels as if, with Harry, Louis could finally understand the meaning of eternity.

“You have been really quiet, Lou,” Harry notices, open the door and leading their way inside. Louis follows him with short steps, watching as Harry kicks out his boots and invites him to do the same. “What’s happening?”

“You’re making me think the cheesiest things in this world, Harold,” Louis confesses, feeling the warm wooden floor under his feet.

“Oh, I wanna know!” Harry pleads his face lighting up like a Christmas three.

“Not even dead,” Louis refuses, helping Harry to take off his fancy suit jacket. “I hate to be that kind of cheesy boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Harry mutters, turning around.

They look into each other, consuming their minds into love and need; and Louis realizes what he has said.

“I mean… Shit. I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to…”

Harry steps forwards and shuts Louis up with a kiss. Louis doesn’t react right away, too caught up with the word boyfriend to properly kiss his boy back. Even so, Harry’s eagerness is too delightful, too invading and addictive, making Louis’s brain work again and making how whole boy crave him.

“Yes, Louis, I want to be your boyfriend,” Harry gasps, breaking the kiss for a brief moment. Louis tries to kiss him back, yet the younger boy dodges his attempts. “Is that what you were asking?”

“Yes,” Louis nods, sounding a little desperate. “My boyfriend,” he kisses the edge of Harry’s mouth, he doesn’t lean back this time. “Someday my husband,” he kisses him again on his chin. “My forever.”

“I like that,” Harry says, wrapping Louis in his strong arms and pulling him impossible close, where their bodies are plastered to each other and their warmth blended into one. “I want you to be my forever, too.”

“I am,” Louis nods, smiling fondly. “As long as you want me too.”

Harry only finds a way of replying with a passionate kiss, sucking onto Louis’s tongue and pushing him against the wall. They’re probably under the effects of the light alcohol and the happiness of the party, yet they don’t care.

“Room?”

“Room.”

The way to the room is a struggle; none of them really wants to stop kissing, so they try to make their way while they’re clanged onto each other.

“You’re so tiny,” Harry gasps between kisses. He draws down Louis in bed, mouths glued to each other, unable to stop from kissing. They’re tipsy and drunk in love, and the filling is addictive. “So, so small.”

Harry is aware that he probably sees Louis tinier than what he really is, but who cares.

“I’m not that small,” Louis argues, grumpy. He doesn’t want to be the delicate, tiny one; he knows the princess in the story is Harry. When Harry crawls in bed with him, he rolls around to be on top of the younger boy, sucking into his mouth with an eagerness he never felt before.

“Lou,” Harry moans when Louis breaks the kiss to suck a hickey on his neck. “Louis.”

Harry is gasping his name unconsciously, Louis simply loves it. He loves that his name is the only think Harry gets himself to say when he’s overwhelmed by his sexual arousal.

“Can I get you naked, baby princess?”

“Yes,” Harry nods without hesitation.

They sit up on bed and Louis enjoys undressing Harry. Every new inch of skin he gets to knows, it’s a part of Harry’s body he wants to kiss, he wants to own.

“Just look at you,” Louis says, his usually high pitched voice has lowered its levels, sounding rough and manly. “You’re so gorgeous, Haz. So, so beautiful. So mine.”

“All yours,” Harry agrees, nodding with the head. He desperate leans into kiss him again, craving his kisses more than anything. “Take me.”

Louis has no words to express how much he feels for his boy. He lets him know it in every caress, ever single tender kiss.

Harry’s pretty face is in bliss when Louis opens him, fingers playing inside him, getting him ready to receive him completely. He loves, loves how Harry reacts at his touch, so eager to please him.

As they move, as they melt into each other, Louis swears nothing is left in the world except themselves and the soft moans Harry makes as he thrusts in.

They come with each other’s name in their lips, feeling the dizziness and the complete ecstasy of reaching their orgasms. Harry asks Louis to fill him and as soon as Louis comes, he comes untouched under him.

Louis swears he never felt something as good and strong as that night.

After they come back from their highs, Louis cleans them with a tissue and quickly forces Harry to turn around, spooning him. Harry hum happily, tangling their limbs.

“I love you,” Harry mutters, gripping Louis’s hand so hard that it might hurt him. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Louis asks, pressing a light kiss to the back of Harry’s neck. “I’m the shitty one here. I’m a regular guy; I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Let me make the list,” Harry jokes, excited. He’s probably going after a boring long list of little details no one notice in Louis except him, and Louis is embarrassed about how pleased he is of listening. “Your cock.”

“Harry!”

“Ok, let’s start with the less naughty,” he giggles, dimples all out. “The way you breathe.”

“I deserve you because of the way I breath,” Louis repeats, trying to sound serious yet nothing about that is serious. “Ok, that makes senesce.”

“Yes, it makes senesce,” Harry protest like a very offended little child.

“No.”

“Louis!”

“Don’t be such a pretentious kitten and kiss me.”

They’re about to kiss when Harry’s phone starts ringing on his nightstand. Both of them sigh, hating whoever interrupted the moment of pure bliss and intimate love.

Harry rolls in bed and grabs his phone, picking up despite being really late.

“Hi, mum,” he greets. Louis half smirks, knowing how protective Anne is of his boy. “I forgot to call you, I’m home and…” Harry goes silent. Louis can catch a echo of Anne’s voice and she doesn’t sound cheerful. It puts Louis in an alarm state, who sits up in bed and fixes his eyes on his boy. “What? You sure?”

Harry’s face goes scarily pale all of sudden. Louis isn’t sure if he’s allowed to approach and hug him; for now, he does nothing at all. Harry’s eyes grow wet without apparent justification, listening to his mom with the face of a helpless boy. Louis hates to see Harry like this, he doesn’t deserve pain.

“Harry, what’s happening?”

“Mom, no,” Harry snuggles close to Louis and buries his face on the crock of his neck, still on the phone with Anne. He breaks into silent sobs, trying to contain the hip cups. Louis quickly strokes his back, trying to bring him a little peace. “Ok. See you there. Love you, mom.”

“Haz, what’s wrong?”

Harry throws the cell phone on bed and curls up into Louis’s lap. He holds him while he cries silently for what seems to be ages without uttering a word.

Louis knows what happened.

“She’s in intensive therapy,” Harry stutters after a long time, wiping his running nose with the back of his hand. “They don’t think she’s gonna make it trough the night.”

Louis never imagined the news could _hurt this much._

 

*****

 

It’s painful. When Louis and Harry get in the car to rush to the hospital, Louis starts understanding what _pain_ means.

It’s pure pain when they arrive at the hospital and Louis asks Harry to go without waiting for him while he parks the car. He runs, he runs thanking Louis and kissing him hard before disappearing into the dark of the night.

It’s painful when Louis finds Niall, Tabitha, Anne, Zayn and Liam sitting on the hallway right next to the intense therapy care room and Harry is nowhere to be seen.

“Louis, thanks of God,” Anne thanks, standing up to receive Louis with a tight embrace.

“Where’s Harry?”

“In the bathroom,” Zayn replies from where he’s sitting. “Pretty sure he’s crying.”

“I don’t know what to do, Louis,” Anne says, speaking in a low voice. “I called him because Harry needs to know, but… She won’t probably make it through the night.”

Louis doesn’t do anything, not even blink. He knows this; he has been waiting for this day to come since he met Harry. Amelia’s health was a delicate thing that was about to break, he wasn’t sure about the future.

It hurts more than Louis thought it would. He isn’t a great friend of Amelia but he knows how much she means for Harry, and the mere thought of his baby boy being broken makes it harder to breath.

“He doesn’t want to see us,” Zayn adds, standing up. “I’m pretty sure he needs you, lad.”

“Yeah,” Louis nods, swallowing hard. “Just… I need him, too.”

Anne gives him an encouraging pat on his back before he walks away to look for his boy in the bathroom.

He finds him pretty quickly, sitting on the corner of the bathroom, crying helplessly. His eyes are red and puffy and his hair is a mess of sweat and his greasy hair disheveled because of the many times he has ran his hand through it.

“Haz, love,” Louis whispers, kneeling down in front of his boyfriend.

“She’s dying, Louis,” Harry says with a cracked voice, hiccupping. “Please, hold me?”

“Of course. Come here,” Louis settles on the floor, resting his back against the wall, and Harry finds a way to curl up on his lap like a needy kitten. Louis doesn’t know how he does it, fit so well onto him even when he’s taller and bigger, but… There’s only one of the many things he doesn’t understand about them.

“I love you.”

Louis wasn’t expecting what Harry says. He wasn’t expecting it at all, because they have known each other for a brief time. Love is surely an odd feeling, if they ask Louis to put it on words; he couldn’t even find one word to explain it. He knows for sure what he feels for Harry is something scarily similar to love, but he isn’t quite secure to say it out loud.

“I love you so much,” Harry babbles out, burying his face on the crock of Louis’s neck. He doesn’t let go of him even when Louis tries to, determined to hold onto those things he loves most in life. “Are you going to leave me?”

“Harry, pretty,” Louis coos, kissing Harry’s temple. The boy leans back a little, his watery eyes look for Louis’s. “You know I won’t leave.”

Harry nods anxiously with the head, lost in fear. He hasn’t acknowledged that he has said that he loves Louis for first time. It could have been thought that it was his emotions and sudden feeling of loss speaking, yet Harry knows the truth.

He means his words as he never meant anything.

“I hope so.”

They remain in silence until Louis’s ass starts hurting from the hardness of the floor. He suggests going out to get a coffee, at what Harry agrees only because he doesn’t want to be alone.

They walk out of the bathroom and they find Anne talking with Liam. Harry doesn’t get the forces to answer, so it’s Louis the one who takes the word.

“How’s she?” he asks to Liam, who’s looking tired. Louis knows how life is at the hospital, sometimes pities the ones that, as Liam, dedicate their whole life to the others.

“Not…” before continuing, Liam glances at Harry, who shrugs shoulders and leans into Louis, looking for confront. Louis holds him, kissing the edge of his mouth briefly. “Not good. We aren’t sure about her future.”

Harry muffles a sob and quickly buries his face on the crock of Louis’s neck, turning around to hug him as tighter as ever. Louis reciprocates the hug, looking at Liam and Anne over Harry’s shoulder.

Anne looks really concerned about his son, which Louis completely understands. Harry is such a passionate boy, always falling so hard for the people and loving so intently.

Whoever has at least a little bit of Harry’s love is a lucky one. He hopes he can call himself a lucky one.

“Haz, baby. Sh, I’m here, ok?” Louis coos in Harry’s ear, trying to make it better. _Easier._ Harry nods with the head, gripping the back of Louis’s shirt with his hands.

“Don’t leave me.”

“I’m here, I won’t leave anytime soon,” he promises and he means it. “Now, baby giraffe, let me bring us coffee, ok? Certain mother of yours wants to hug you, too.”

Harry nods, leaning back and breaking the embrace. His eyes are inflated and reddish; he rubs them trying to wash away his tears. It’s useless, because as soon as he’s back to reality, he starts crying again.

“Harry, sweetheart,” Anne says, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. He turns around to hug his mom.

“Coffee for you too, Anne?”

“Please, dear.”

“Gotta go with you, Lou,” Liam offers.

Liam and Louis walk away by the hall, surrounded by the calmness of the night. Louis knows his friend wants to talk, yet he doesn’t push the matter, he rather let it flow.

 “So… Are you and Harry dating or something?”

“Yeah,” Louis nods, his stomach fluttering with butterflies when he does. “We’re a couple, actually.”

“He really loves you, the kid,” Liam opines. They reach the cafeteria, which is almost empty for the night. The sleepy girl in the counter leaves his book to take their order, preparing the machine to make three coffees. “He’s really… Passionate, you know? He has been with Amelia since day one. He’s lucky that he got you.”

“Are you kidding, Payne?” Louis says, arching eyebrows. “I’m the lucky one. Have you seen how… Gorgeous, lovely, how pure Harry is?”

“Someone is in love,” Liam mocks, ready to take the coffee. He pays for the three of them, including the tips.

“Hell I am,” Louis nods, sipping his hot coffee. They chose to stay in the cafeteria for a while, giving Harry and Anne time to talk. “Yet I didn’t… Completely say it to him. I don’t think it is the right time.”

“It is the right time, Louis,” Liam notices, honest. “I don’t think Amelia is gonna make it. He’s going to be destroyed and nothing could make him better than knowing that he’s loved.”

Louis sighs, nibbling the edge of this foam cup. His mind is far from there, wandering by a near future where Harry and he decided to build more than just a day together.

“I love him, Liam,” Louis confesses, needing to say it. “So much. It’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not,” Liam says, smirking. He crushes the empty cup with his hand and leaves it on the counter. “You deserve it.”

Louis isn’t sure he’ll ever deserve Harry’s love, but he won’t complain. He finishes his coffee, lost in the thoughts of Harry, Amelia and the life they’re shyly starting to build together; and walks back to the waiting room where Anne is holding Harry on his motherly arms, while Tabitha reads a magazine.

Louis rolls his eyes, annoyed. He doesn’t know the woman, he barely speak to her a couple of times; yet it’s plain clear that she doesn’t take care of her daughter as much as Harry does.

Sometimes Louis doesn’t understand people.

“Hey, have a coffee, baby, you need it,” Louis says, sitting next to Harry. He slides his hand underneath Harry’s shit, making him shudder. Harry leaves his mom’s side to snuggle on Louis’s lap, just like a proper kitten.

Louis glances at Anne in a way of saying sorry, and Anne smiles fondly at the two of them and shakes her head sympathetically.

“I like your smell,” Harry says randomly, inhaling the smell of Louis. He presses a tiny kiss on his neck before leaning back to take his coffee.

Time passes the slowest Louis has ever seen. The clock seems to be stopped, the minutes turns hours and the hours days. Tabitha falls asleep with her head against the wall, and in certain point of the night Liam excuses himself to have a nap.

“Well, darling, I think it’s our cue to leave, too,” she says, standing up. She stretches her body, staring at the couple that is cuddled on the seats, and passes Harry his jacket.

“I don’t want to leave,” Harry mutters, grumpily. “I want to be here if… If she…”

“Hey,” Louis says and swallows those words from his mouth with a kiss. “Shh, it’s ok,” he coos, knowing how sensible Harry is right now. Even when he’s comfortable sitting with him cuddled on his lap and clanged onto him like a koala, Louis feels some sort of pressure for being under the eyes of Anne, who’s Harry’s mother. He really needs her approval, or at least to show her how much he truly loves his son. “You need to be out of here, Haz. For your own health, ok?”

“Hum,” he mutters.

“Louis is right, darling,” Anne says, caressing her son’s curls. “Come on, Harry.”

“Ok,” he accepts, poking his head up. “Can I… Go with Lou, mom?”

“Of course, dear,” Anne nods, glancing at Louis. “Would you take care of him?”

“Always.”

The three of them walk away from the waiting room after waking Tabitha up to say goodbye. Anne kisses them both and hugs Harry especially hard before heading to her car.

Louis glances at his boy by the corner of his eyes, and after finding a really broken Harry, his hand looks for his, intertwining their fingers. The younger boy makes a shy smile when they hands meet and holds him tight.

Louis loves this boy.

_So much._

Harry doesn’t stop crying silently on their way back to Louis’s flat. He feels absolutely helpless, finally acknowledging that Amelia’s death is a very real possibility on the horizon.

He cries without explaining a thing, and he can’t be anymore grateful of Louis’s respect. The older boy just drives away, holding his hand as if he was holding his life. It means the world for Harry.

Louis parks near his flat and gets off the car without uttering a word. Harry wipes his running nose with the back of his hand and waits until Louis opens his door.

“Haz,” Louis whispers, offering a hand to him. Harry takes it, and as soon as their fingers are linked, he feels this weird reassurance that everything is going to be all right. “Come on. Let me help you.”

Harry gets off the car with the help of Louis. The older boy locks the car and before eh can walk to the sidewalk; Harry captures him on his arms and hugs him tightly.

“Louis, please, listens to me,” Harry begs, turning solemn. Louis tries to move them to the sidewalk so they won’t die hit by a car, yet Harry is stubbornly standing in the street with his arms wrapped around Louis.

“Haz, we’re in the middle of the street.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do care,” Louis half teases, pecking Harry on the cheek. “I don’t want to die. Let me get you home.”

“I love you, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry yells and his words echo in the lonely and empty street. He sees how Louis’s cheek turn crimson red and he loves it, loves that Louis will deny to be blushed just because it isn’t that _bro_. “I just love you, plainly and ardently.”

“Someone’s sensitive,” Louis says, kissing Harry on his temple. “Come here, let’s go home.”

“You didn’t say that you loved me,” Harry says, genuinely concerned. Louis isn’t sure if he’s sad or lost. Probably, the two of them. “Please, say it. Don’t leave me. Don’t do it like… Amelia did.”

That’s the final push Harry needs to fall on his knees and starts crying helplessly. Leaving aside the fact that they’re in the middle of the street and that’s probably not the best place to break their inner walls and let the sadness flow away, Louis is relieved to see that Harry lets the pain go away.

“Come on, baby boy,” Louis coos, kneeling at his side. He wraps an arm around Harry’s waist, lifting him up and forcing him to walk towards their flat. “I love you. I'm madly in love with you, for real. Haz, shit, I love you till the end times. Now, let’s go home. You look like you could use a proper night of cuddles.”

“And kisses,” he adds, stealing a quick kiss from Louis’s lip.

The older boy smiles, endeared with his charm. People say it’s impossible to fall in love with someone in such a short period of time.

Louis might be the exception to the rule.

 

*

 

After Amelia’s death, Harry is asked to speak in her funeral. His speech is honest, kind and loving; Louis is always there, as his mother, giving him strength and comforting him in the difficult toil of saying goodbye to someone he loves.

Louis is always there to hold his hand, to kiss him a little, to guide him while they walk once the ceremony is over. Harry is silent and pretty gloomy, his usual hint of childish happiness is missing and, honestly, it’s what kills Louis the most.

Yet before they can get into the car to finally say goodbye and walk away, Tabitha stops the couple.

“Harry, Louis,” she says, panting. She’s dresses too fancy and elegant for a funeral, Louis notices, but he tries not to judge her. It isn’t easy to loose a child, after all. “I’m glad you came. Harry, your words were beautiful.

“Thank you,” Harry whispers, nodding with the head.

“This is for you,” she holds a folder full of Amanda’s drawings; Louis has seen the folder in her hospital room before. The smile on Harry’s face is shinny when he accepts the gifs, so pleased and proud of being gifted with someone that meant so much for Amelia as her drawings. “She wanted you to keep it.”

“Thank you,” Harry repeats, tearing up a little. Louis squeezes his hand and stands in his tip toes to kiss his cheek lightly, getting a shy smile from his boyfriend.

“Also, Louis, this is for you,” Tabitha says, giving him a tiny piece of paper with a drawing of two boys. “Amelia has been working on this.”

Louis is a little scare to read it. He takes a deep breath and finally reads the words, knowing that Harry is doing the exact same thing:

 

**_I don’t care if I die. Harry has you and I know you will protect him and love him like a real prince :) I love you, Louis, you were my best nurse!!_ **

****

Harry and Louis raise their eyes to meet each other. It’s so strong and so powerful the blend of emotions they have inside, that there’s only one thing left to say.

“I love you, Harry. Forever.”

“I love you too, Lou. Forever.”


End file.
